Captive Romance

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Neither of them moved or spoke as the hoof beats came to a stop outside the cabin. Brantley held tight to Rebecca's hand—desperation tight. Hellfire, he didn't want to lose her but, she wasn't his to keep.

The hum of voices came from outside followed by the sound of boots on the porch. The cabin door opened and the gang poured in. Six dirty, trail-worn men entered the tiny space, filling the air with their stink.

"Hello lovebirds," Hoff greeted cheerfully—as if he hadn't sawed off a woman's finger the last time he'd visited. His gaze paused on their joined hands. "I'm afraid I have some news you might not want to hear." Hoff smiled brightly at Rebecca. "Your husband finally saw things my way and it's time for you to go home."

Brantley was relieved to know Rebecca was going to go home and be safe—but he wasn't looking real forward to letting her go. He met her gaze. Those brown eyes were wide and she was so very pale. Brantley knew she didn't want to return to her husband but she had to—it was the only way she would ever be safe.

Hoff clicked his tongue. "Come along now, sweet thing. We don't want to keep Mr. Smallwood, or his money, waiting too long."

Hoff grabbed Rebecca's arm roughly and Brantley saw rane snatched up the discarded fork and lunged, pressing the tines tight against his old friends throat. "You won't touch her, Hoff. Not again."

Hoff and Brantley stared each other down. There was no fear in Hoff's eyes, just coldness and calculation. Brantley was very much aware of the guns aimed his direction, but he wasn't backing down. Backing down, even if it would be the smarter move, would only show weakness, and that was something Brantley couldn't afford just now.

After several silent moment of tension, it was Hoff who released his hold on Rebecca and took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. "Alright then, Brantley. None of us will touch her. You can place her back in her husband's loving arms."

Brantley growled low but said nothing. Hoff knew what he was doing. He knew how to hurt people. The last thing Brantley wanted to do was hand Rebecca to a piece of shit like that husband of hers..... But if that was the only way to keep her safe and keep further harm from coming to her, Brantley would see things through to the end.

***

Rebecca rode upon Brantley's horse, his strong arm wrapped tight around her, holding her steadily in place against him. It felt so right to be held by him this way but it was an illusion because everything was so very very wrong.

Gang members rode on every side of them, ensuring that Brantley did not attempt to run. With every step they took away from the cabin, Rebecca knew she was one step closer to Martin and her heart sank at that knowledge.

She was going back to the man who had risked her life in an attempt to save himself a bit of money—a man who treated her as nothing more than a broodmare, as Brantley had so eloquently stated.

How could she go back to that life? How could she forget Brantley and the fantasy life she had imagined them sharing together?

"Alright, pull these horses to a stop," Hoff called.

He rode in front of Brantley and Rebecca and smiled at her. Rebecca hated that smile. There was no kindness, no goodness, in it at all. It was cold and cruel and made her blood freeze. This man had murdered Felix. He had sawed off her finger. And he was going to kill Brantley.

Rebecca wasn't foolish. She wasn't lacking in intelligence. She knew that once she was back with Martin, Brantley was going to be a dead man. He had signed that death warrant in blood when he had put that fork to Hoff's throat—when he had protected her.

"It'll just be me and you two riding the rest of the way to Mr. Smallwood. I don't want to show up with all the men and scare the poor fellow away. He's not the bravest of men I've ever dealt with."

Hoff began to ride ahead once again and, without a word, Brantley let his horse in step behind him.

Rebecca's stomach clenched and she swallowed hard when she saw Martin's silhouette in the distance, standing beside his cart. As they rode close in to him and brought their horses to a stop, Rebecca felt her sadness and dread turning to anger.

Brantley slid from the horse and helped her down as well. Rebecca didn't miss the way he kept his hand gently on the small of her back as if he were dreading the moment he had to let her go just as badly as she were dreading it.

"Mr. Smallwood, as you can see your wife is alive and well..."

"You damaged her. You removed her finger.... That has to affect the price."

"I'll slit your goddamn throat....." Brantley growled, attempting to move forward.

Rebecca's elbow in his gut stopped his movements. She was in no hurry to see Brantley be killed.

"I share my partners sentiments," Hoff stated, his arms crossing over his chest. "We agreed on an amount. Tell me you aren't backing out now."

For the first time, Rebecca looked at her husband. He was pale, disheveled and appeared as if he hadn't slept well lately. His mustache wasn't as greased and groomed as he usually kept it and his clothes were quite wrinkled.

"I'm not changing my mind," he assured Hoff, never meeting Rebecca's gaze. "Here."

He pulled out his money pouch and handed it to Hoff. "It's all there," he insisted as Hoff began counting the bills.

"You'll forgive me if I don't trust you," Hoff replied without apology as he continued counting the money.

Rebecca leaned into Brantley's touch—drawing what little comfort she could and soaking in the last moments she would ever feel that peaceful contact.

"Alright then, Brantley." Hoff shoved the money pouch into his pocket. "Give that woman back to her husband."

Rebecca wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. She wanted to curse the world and the unfairness of it all. Instead, she turned slowly and looked up at Brantley's sharp green eyes. His sharp brow rose and his jaw tensed as he swallowed hard.

"You gotta go now, Rebecca," he urged, his hand gently running down her arm.

A tear slid down her cheek. "I'll never forget you."

Brantley nodded. "And I'll never forget you. Go live your life, Rebecca. Make it the life you want. Find your happiness."

Rebecca's heart shattered. "You're my happiness."

"Come on, Rebecca, it's time to go home now," Martin called. It was clear that he hadn't heard the words she and Brantley had been whispering together.

Rebecca took a deep, shuddering breath and turned to face her husband. He smiled at her, that condescending expression he always used while interacting with her.

Rebecca walked to him and when he put his hand on her elbow to lead her to the cart, Rebecca snapped. She jerked away from his touch, clenched her fist and struck him in the jaw with all her might.

Then she strode to the cart, climbed into the seat and sat in silence as Martin climbed in as well and began to drive them toward the ranch—and away from the man she loved.